To Overcome
by Corelli Sonatas
Summary: Complete with Chapter 7! After watching a woman experience a miscarriage at the Coruscant medcenter, Han and Leia face division and are ultimately troubled with the possibility of that very same misfortune. Post-Episode VI.
1. Unfortunate Detour

As far as Leia and Han had progressed into the mildly-warm, sunny Coruscant day, nothing could have been better. Mr. and Mrs. Solo were merely two more people in the healthy chaos of a restless city, and this satisfied them. Since the war had ended, they'd yearned for an ordinary life: regular attire, flexible schedules, family plans...

The latter of these was pending; Leia had not received the results from her visit to the doctor the previous day. She and Han were anxious to know whether they'd get the news for which they'd labored for months.

Meanwhile, husband and wife had to endure the ordinary events of their newfound "ordinary" life. And the first job on the list was to get to Luke's new Jedi academy.

"If we keep stopping to peruse store windows, Luke's gonna give us one of those unbearable lectures." Han grinned at the woman whose body hugged his own; Leia chuckled and nodded in approval.

"I'd hate to hear another one," remarked Leia, flashing a worried look at her husband. Their difference in height had never bothered her, but right now she felt even less significant next to a towering Han: skyscrapers (more like space-scrapers) stalked her vision in every direction; and to further overwhelm the indigenous Alderaanian, every form of advertisement - from twinkling holoboards to salespeople in funny outfits - crowded up the streets. "Why are we here again?" moaned Leia, after a drunken salesperson practically tripped on Han's foot.

The Corellian reminded her, "You used to like this place. Everything political is here: the Republic Senate, the courtrooms, the intergalactic meetinghouses -"

"Oh, come on, hot shot! I'm over all that now." Leia gave him a playful shove, which pushed him but a millimeter off-balance. Han grinned; she rolled her eyes. "Stop that," she chided.

"Stop _what?"_ he challenged, purposely evoking an unforgettable memory of the past. "Besides, aren't you glad I suggested you forget about all that political stuff? It's because of me that we're living in Corellia, sweetheart."

This testimony did little to make Leia more thankful for their move away from Coruscant. "For the record, I still believe in politics. Without all those people you call crazy and corrupt, we wouldn't be safe walking out here like this." She half-jerked out of his protective hold to demonstrate an uninterrupted stride in front of him.

Han pretended to look impressed. "What an accomplishment, Mrs. Solo. And to think it took every single one of those bantha-brains in the Senate... Must be a freedom worth a million votes -"

"Shut up," Leia muttered under her breath, unsuccessfully concealing the smile that had formed across her lips. _It's Han,_ she thought. _There's no hope in keeping a straight face with him making fun._ "We're turning here," she announced at the corner of two streets. Above them at the intersection were hundreds of levels of ten times as many vehicles. Han and Leia no longer owned one of their own, which was the sole reason for their trek on foot.

The speeder-caused wind grew especially intense at the intersection. Han pulled Leia closer to him once more, assuring her, "If you got swept up by the wind current...believe me, you're light enough for that to happen..."

"Turn left, flyboy," was his wife's brusque command, emotional though she was since her husband always had a way with flattering her - even if the picture he'd created with his words didn't look flattering.

They hurried by the more vacant streets - ones with very little to no stores along the rows of buildings. Something about their unusual route made Han uneasy, whereupon he stopped abruptly, taking Leia's constant velocity for a surprise; she bumped into him without control.

"Sorry, I didn't even -"

"It's fine... Hey, why are we doing this again?" Han wasn't in joke-mode anymore. The unfamiliarity of their route to the Jedi Academy had begun to worry the Corellian since they were in a quieter - deathly quiet - part of the city.

Leia quickly got a panoramic view of their surroundings. "We're going to the academy; isn't this the way we would normally go?"

"No, Leia," Han quickly denied; "we're lost. It's because we're used to driving there."

The woman frowned. Clearly they were in an unsafe part of Coruscant, because even while the afternoon sun shone above them, their location was abnormally dim. "Maybe this is the other side of the health district," reasoned Leia after consideration. "See that door?" She pointed to a set of stairs leading to the most frightening iron door Han had ever beheld. "That must be the medcenter's south exit. Yes, I'm quite sure we'll locate the academy if we go through the medcenter." She looked up at Han and gently squeezed his hand. "I'm sure about this."

"Whatever you say, your worship," came the response. Leia quickly regained her spirits after her husband's endearing answer; and so they climbed the flight of stairs and forcibly pulled the stubborn door open.

Indeed, Leia had led them to the absolute southern end of the medcenter. Fortunately all the local med droids were occupied and therefore did not notice the two outlandish people standing in the hallway. Leia gestured to Han after seconds of astounded silence; upon receiving her signal, he snapped back into the present situation.

It touched Leia that so many natural expressions existed in the medcenter: she heard on several occasions the thrilled exclamation of various species who'd gazed upon their newborns for the first time. Also, however, there were deep moans of sorrow; discouraging shrieks of fright; painful combinations of patient-and-visitor weeping. Han held his dear wife closer to his body, as if the looser he was with her would render Leia more vulnerable to a disease that would send her to her deathbed.

Nothing had disturbed them throughout the entire back-room scene of the med-center. Leia sighed a breath of relief once they were finally in the waiting-room of the massive health building. But right as she and Han had stepped outside, a heart-wrenching wail confronted them.

A human woman appearing to be four months along in her pregnancy was on the ground, surrounded by a mob of people - both medics and eyewitnesses - and she screamed in agony over something. Han's first intent was to get Leia away from the mess. He had a feeling that the woman's suffering wouldn't do anything positive to his wife's morale; but, just as he'd decided to address her, Leia bolted toward the crowd. _Damn it, Leia,_ he cursed internally. _She's trying to be helpful to someone else, but she doesn't realize the harm she's doing to herself._

And perhaps the sight of a bleeding woman whose miscarriage had commenced did unnerve Leia, but she did not dare to show it. Her eyes - Han was for a moment able to stare at her beautiful, dark-brown eyes - were teeming with concern. Everything about her actions were temporarily stunning to the man: her collected interrogation of the woman's condition, whether the woman needed cloths or support or _something_... But it was too late.

That is, for two things. The first was out of Leia's control; this woman in scarlet-stained clothing wept as med droids worked to clot the blood. Han swatted at surveyors with holo devices, presuming them to be nothing more than idiots with disgusting motives. "Go away," he spat several times. His heart beat faster when at last the crowd's reduced size allowed him to see his wife.

She knelt beside the overwhelmed woman, repeating words that were supposed to provide comfort, attempting to make eye contact with the victim of something she and Han had been trying to forget...something they'd hoped to be a fictional detail about medical matters, but of course that was wishful thinking.

Nevertheless, the day's heart-wrenching episode had assured them of plain reality. Several minutes after the observers had cleared out - which left only the med droids and Leia - Han interfered. Unable to speak, he nodded to his wife, whose face now showed off the blood of another. It wasn't something about which Han wanted to comment until they'd left the scene, that poor woman moaning her last words on the matter.

Neither spoke for the first few minutes while they proceeded on their way to the academy. Leia's head was bowed so that Han couldn't see her countenance; neither, in fact, could he feel confident enough to ask for her eyes to meet his. Every step they managed separated them from one another, as if a shovel simply continued to dig deeper and farther away from its counterpart.

Luke's presence at the entrance to the Jedi Academy brightened their mood. "You're surprisingly early," he commented. "Did you take a different route?"

_I'd rather not enlighten him,_ thought Han in dread. When he shifted his gaze toward Leia, he could have sworn - by her beaten countenance - that she'd mused the very same thing.

But hers was a gloomier expression; and when Luke led them through a hallway similar to those in the medcenter, Han feared that Leia would have permanent memory of that hopeless, utterly helpless woman.

Han feared that very night. He was fearful...for Leia.


	2. Hopefulness

Neither had felt so separated since before their marriage. And that ceremony was now almost a standard year in the past.

Evening set its course upon the restless cities on Coruscant; Leia first noticed this as the Jedi Academy's exterior lights flashed awake, and in due time the vast landscape of civilization - endless skyscraper after another, the locals' speeders whizzing in every direction - had illuminated with the combined efforts of billions of electrons connected to power sources, yielding the brightest sight below the stars.

Luke had not questioned Leia when she'd vanished through doors and hallways in the academy building; neither did he have the guts to ask Han what argument they'd had. Even while bitterness had not severed husband and wife, the Corellian was not about to bring up the hospital-detour.

Four Coruscant-hours later - which denotes the setting of the aforementioned evening landscape - Leia returned to the outside of the building, where Luke and Han had meanwhile contemplated whether they should turn on the comlink to contact their missing member.

"I'm here," the woman announced, panting quietly so as to conceal the truth that she'd had to travel the entire length of the academy building to reach its entrance. "I'm sorry if you've been waiting long."

Luke shook his head. "We haven't. I'd begun to wonder whether you were deciding to join the younglings in their training."

Continuing with the topic of conversation only to appease her brother, Leia laughed and teased, "They made me feel unintelligent, I'll admit. But the Force-exercises are quite interesting."

Were Han feeling himself, he would have blurted jestingly, "Hey, don't you think about trying that stuff; Luke'll never let go of you." But the man was hardly up to imparting a healthy joke - especially to his wife - and so he remained silent, positioned intentionally behind his brother-in-law.

This did not hinder Leia from seeking him. "Han?" She beckoned for him to reveal himself, whereupon she declared, "It's time. Sorry, Luke; we must be going. Do you remember how to get back to the hotel area on foot? We got lost on our way here." She focused the entirety of her gaze upon her brother, and this caused Han uncomfortable anxiousness. _How are we going to walk back together, with things this weird between us?_

Fortunately, Luke ably - and willingly, for he could sense the tenseness between husband and wife - returned them to the hotel on his own speeder. As Han and Leia exited the vehicle once they'd met their destination, the Jedi thought internally, _If only they lived here... We would all be so much closer - perhaps even like it was during the war._

Nevertheless, as his sister and brother-in-law disappeared from his peripheral vision, Luke feared that far timelier issues had begun to distress his family; in only a matter of hours, he more than worried about it: he sensed it.

...

Leia had retired early to the comfort underneath the bedcovers. Her body claimed precisely the area it usually occupied, but this time her every muscle refrained from relaxing. It was as if a robot had stunned her with its electrocuting power, forcing Leia into a normal position with an abnormal tensity. Her frozen figure confused Han, too, when he - an hour later - joined his wife in the hotel bed.

After numerous alterations in Han's position, Leia could not urge herself to sleep. She yearned for a good dream, something that would set her in a universe far different from the one into which she had stumbled. Sadly, her present life was a stumbling-block. _I don't know what I think about anything anymore, _she thought in fear,_ and if it so happens that what Han and I wanted so desperately comes true...then I won't know what to do with myself._

She squeezed her eyes shut in effort to feel parsecs away from Han. No such goal was possible, however; and before she knew it, Han had called out her name.

"Leia? Are you still awake?"

She halted all minor motions in her body, attempting to appear soundly asleep so her stubborn husband wouldn't question her again. He didn't, but what Leia heard after minutes of mutual silence...

He was weeping. To mute it, Han had covered his head in the folded pillow; but too strong - too violent - was his emotion, rendering it audible and startling to his wife. Leia turned to her left side, facing him with a confidence she'd lacked during the entire evening. "Han?" she whispered.

Music was her gentle voice to his ears; but Han would not allow her to experience any more of his silly crying. _She can't get the impression that I'm not strong enough to endure this with her,_ he assured himself over and again. _Not when I've let her suffer too much today. _"Sweetheart," he finally uttered, shifting in the bed toward her. Accidentally his face almost brushed against hers.

She made nothing out of this, and continued with seriousness: "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Silence and darkness proceeded this firm assertion. Still, Leia knew he was lying.

"No, you're not."

He managed a weak chuckle. "You can't even see my face." After this, Han thought he had silenced her.

"I can always see you...even when no light exists to help me." Her hand traveled from her realm on the bed to his, and the Corellian remained dumbstruck as she touched his cheek, faint though her contact was with his face.

Leia continued, now disengaging her back from the mattress to lean on her left elbow, hovering over his head and torso. "You feel guilty. I know you do. But you shouldn't, because I chose to -"

"That's over," Han cut in, angry with her for reminding him of the day's major failure. "We're done with all that, okay? No more of it; the past is the past -"

"But we're _not_ done," persisted she, her hands searching for his arms, onto which she sought to cling with ardent sincerity. "We're not done...because that very well could happen to us, and I -"

"Come on, Leia, do you think it will really -"

"I'm _not_ about to deny a truth of life!" she countered, chest heaving with excitement. She knew how much she dreaded the subject, but to convince Han that what they'd witnessed that afternoon was a matter of reality... It pierced her.

"I'm not going to let you tell me," the Corellian struggled to explain, his voice breaking the sentence into phrases, "that my wife is most certainly going to suffer one of those, or that we...that we'd have to live on if it happened to our..." He closed his eyes - completely lost in the imaginings of that which had become his worst nightmare - and let the tears pass through his eyelids in the pitch-black room. Leia momentarily wouldn't speak; she understood what her husband was attempting to do in the safety of the darkness, but of course her Force-sensitivity negated that secrecy.

Soon both of them were sitting up in the bed, their bodies huddled together for warmth and support. The latter was, of course, the most imperative of their needs; because, even with their physical closeness, they had yet to reunite their thoughts and emotions.

Han spoke first: "Tomorrow...if we learn you're with child... Will you be happy?"

This question offended Leia, as she had been certain that he would not need to ask that which seemed - to her - a redundant inquiry. "How _could_ I be? Do you think that after seeing that woman today, I'd be ready to take a risk that could potentially ruin a life?" She was referring to three lives simultaneously, but hers and her husband's lives she could not imagine - that is, she could not begin to fathom how mentally destructive the loss of an unborn baby would render itself upon them.

Acting on behalf of due honesty, Han answered her, "I did think you'd be devastated if we found out it was going to happen...but I don't know how I stand anymore." He bowed his head and stared into the blackness of his lap. His wife inhaled suddenly. "What?" he asked nervously.

"You feel just as I have... I _don't_ know what I'd feel, but it's too late now to decide whether we want that or not. Han, nothing is more wounding to my thoughts on childbearing than that incident today." She let him curse under his breath - since she'd anticipated this of him - and added quickly, "I'm sorry."

Her final words struck him hard. "Sorry?" he wondered rather than mocked, lifting his head again to see what he could of her silhouette. "Why? How could I blame you...when all this damned death...when you would have to - to..." He couldn't finish with the phrase "endure the bodily pain" because such was something far beyond his knowledge. Han was a respectful man, and that which he did not fully know, he would not explain. He empathized with the woman whose miscarriage he'd seen that afternoon, but nothing to his own understanding would be able to tell him of her agony.

As was inevitable, Leia collapsed into his embrace; she trembled, she murmured her deepest worries to him, and she spoke ill of her perceived selfishness. All of which Han reassured her was beautiful and necessary to their moment of reverent mourning of the concept with which they'd both become better acquainted that day. It was only a matter of time when Leia compiled the courage to speak further: "I don't want to be unhappy if we _are_ expecting, but it's not going to be a simple task to be brave for the first few months."

Han nodded somberly. "We're not going to do this thing separately, though, all right? I wouldn't be able to handle it." He lifted her chin up. Leia smiled bravely at his loving gaze. Their eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room, so he could see it now: the dried tears against her soft face, the increasingly vibrant hope in her deep brown eyes. No longer did he feel alone, and he had been correct: they would not stand a chance if they severed any longer. It would destroy them.

And so, for the short six hours during which husband and wife could slumber before leaving on the Falcon for Corellia, Leia and Han were at peace.


	3. Reality

The Solo residence on Corellia was modest and simple: their apartment had a couple bedrooms and bathrooms; a cramped yet cozy living room; and a kitchen with the cleverest usage of space. Presently Leia scrubbed the dishes from her breakfast with Han; the dishes and utensils had been sitting there since morning, and - as it was currently the afternoon - Leia figured the task could not be avoided any longer.

She hated doing chores right now; usually, doing laundry or cleaning the house would put an end to her worries about her political or social problems. But today, all revolved around her abdomen - and Han. _He seems almost as scared as I am,_ she recalled on several occasions. As she rinsed and dried the dishes, her mind corrected her: _No, he's probably as frightened as I am; I just can't accept that._

It was a truth about Leia Organa-Solo that she never wanted to know that others felt an equivalent level of intense emotions as she routinely did; something about a silly notion she had - that no one understood how she felt, regardless of the circumstances - had remained to comfort her in the strangest way. And so she continued with the household duties in anxiety for a call.

The nearest medcenter had promised to make the announcement via comlink some time in the late afternoon to early evening, and Leia worried they would forget. "On the other hand, maybe if they don't call there's nothing to report," she mused aloud; and this consoled her temporarily.

...

Han had not grown accustomed to teaching; he'd been pushed into the job by Generals Rieekan and Mothma, on account of his aptitude for flying. Solo could not concentrate on his individual lessons that day, onto which his students caught on immediately. "Um...General Solo, are you...?" one questioned in embarrassment. Han had, in fact, been staring at a particular control for several seconds.

The young girl's voice knocked him out of the trance. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. Here, I'll demonstrate the acceleration procedure again."

His hands shook and his vision wavered; Han seriously thought he was going to pass out. The twelve year-old human cocked her head to the side as her instructor executed the acceleration incorrectly. "I thought it was this one first," she explained, demonstrating herself the right routine. Han sighed and apologized.

"I'm really sorry, kid. My life's a perpetual motion of worry, and I'm just not myself today." He gave the student his renowned lop-sided smile and continued, "It's my wife I'm worried about. One thing to keep in mind for when you're older is this: be prepared to worry for more people than just yourself."

His words of endearment were not what the poor girl had expected, but she nodded anyway and they attempted to proceed with the flight-controls lesson in the simulator. Once the session had finished, Han felt his stomach lurch when his comlink buzzed.

The student was on her way out when the device had sounded. "Are you all right, General Solo?" she wondered. "Is it your wife?"

Nervously did Han peer down at the damn thing. _Why the hell am I so scared of this piece of metal?_ But he knew what this call meant. "No, it's not my wife. It's all right, kid. I'll see you next week." The girl nodded and left Han to the privacy of the student flight-simulator. "If this ends up being what I think it is, I'm going to look stupid, crying like a baby in a thing like this." He laughed at his assertion, observing the odd setting in which he would speak to the med doctor.

In reluctance he took the comlink into his hands. _Focus,_ he admonished himself. _I can do this._

"This is General Solo..."

...

Leia had fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the holovision several Corellian-hours before Han had arrived. By the mercy of some children having broken a window of the apartment, she had awakened ten minutes prior to Han's arrival. "Thank you," she'd told the frightened children, whose penitent expressions led her to awarding them with a special dessert from the kitchen.

After she'd picked up the shards and swept the floor (it had only been the porch-room door), Leia connected with the repair services to schedule the shipment of a new window-pane. _Anything to get my mind off of possible pregnancy,_ she repeated with faithful consistency during the ten-minute interval. And for that time, it was enough to keep her busy.

When at last Han opened the door to their apartment, Leia was unaware of his entrance. She had resorted to the confines of their bedroom - wanting to "powder up" before the news, just in case (and she completely expected it) her eyes were due to shed a few heartfelt tears that evening. As Leia exited the bathroom conjoined with their comfortable bedroom-space, her legs almost collapsed at the sight of her husband standing ghoulishly still at the room's entrance. "What?" she blurted, wanting a verbal sign that he was well.

Soundless seconds assured the woman that her husband understood something of which she was totally unaware. In a quiet tone, Leia pressed, "Han? What's happened at work?"

Suddenly she remembered: she had never received a call from the medcenter. In translation, that meant -

"Damn it," she exhaled. Her heart began to race, and Han pursed his lips to conceal everything until she forced it out of him. _This is not how I wanted it to go,_ he thought. _Any of it._

Leia had remained focused upon Han like a brave politician; her brain was without knowledge, because at this point she would not face the inevitable truth. Through this illusion, she asked him, "What did they tell you?"

Han wouldn't let it out. He thought for a moment whether he should embrace his wife mournfully while he confessed it, but something inside him wanted her to be all right with the news he had to impart. _Somehow she doesn't predict the verdict,_ he considered. _So I've gotta make it so that she has a chance to be happy...if that chance exists._

Immediately he had a flashback to See-Threepio's endless feedback of information, and how on numerous occasions Han had spat to the droid, "Never tell me the odds." Right now, that assertion applied to him more than it had ever done.

Leia's eyes were fixed upon his mouth; she awaited the information like a predator watching for the moment at which its prey emerged from the shadows. Han looked at her figure, already envisioning the occupancy of her lower abdomen. _Damn, what are we going to do?_

His worry was certainly not that which he'd predicted when they were newlyweds; at that time, they had been cool and excited about the prospect of having children. _Why the hell did I let her see that miscarriage?_ he asked himself, killing his hope that his beautiful, strong wife would perhaps find delight in the forthcoming news.

She'd opened her mouth when he finally snapped back into consciousness. Han, too, let his lips part; it destroyed him as he watched Leia's countenance wilt even further once he'd broken the news: "You're pregnant."

He stepped cautiously forward - so carefully, in fact, that she simply stared in confusion as his body drifted across the room toward her. Soon she felt her limbs grow weak; his final words had begun to sink in.

Leia breathed inward...outward... She blinked and trembled. Her lips acted accordingly, too, whereupon Han grasped her face and rubbed his fingers across them. "Sweetheart," he whispered, unsure whether to reveal his inward happiness even though his heart wept for her sorrow. "Sweetheart."

"Why did they call you?" she wondered, closing her eyelids as he pressed his lips against her forehead. _Right now,_ she reasoned, _I don't care what the hell he does to sedate me._ Indeed, his hold and his stroking of her hair allowed Leia's distress level to decrease. She cried silently in his arms - meaning she forced herself to release every excruciating tear without vocal expression of pain. It was the worst kind of agony; she felt the effects of what would have been such wonderful news having transferred into the blackest, most ominous piece of information fathomable. "Han," she cried at last, her lips breaking their bond with reluctance.

"Leia," he returned, some of his own tears now spilling onto her hair. Han lifted her head and pressed his lips to her brow once more. Youthful was her precious face, and this youth - this innocence he perceived in her delicate figure - caused him to weep. She was not the same Leia Organa-Solo that she portrayed to the public eye; _no,_ thought Han, _she's far more than a rock with endurance. She's like the rest of us humans: she has a heart._

By this he'd meant that Leia had emotion, but he'd always known this. As her hand fell down upon her abdomen, Han recalled their victory over Imperial forces after rescuing her from the first Death Star. The memory was vague, as he'd only retained the image of a beautiful princess in white with the most beautiful countenance of joy. "From the day I met you," he began, sniffling as he went on, "I knew you were far more than the person most people saw. And you are -" he brushed the wetness from her face and grinned - "you are much more. I've learned that really well over the past year...and I'm certain there will be many more days to come...for all of us."

Leia shook her head in worry. "I don't want to believe something that might not even go through...as much as I want..." The words left her, and she covered her face in her hands.

Han's eyes stung; his lungs breathed inconsistently as he attempted to stay strong for his wife. But she noticed this and pressed a hand to his cheek. "Cry as much as you need," she whispered. "I don't know how you always have it together, while I'm all tears..." It was the first time at which she'd caused herself to laugh, and this brightened the moods of both husband and wife. "Oh, Leia," Han breathed at one point, hugging her chest to his torso in love.

"I'm conflicted," she admitted to him. "I want to be happy, truly... Just I can't stop thinking about it."

"You and I both," he confessed plainly. Her gaze was full of desire to hope for the best, something about which he marveled and admired. "I'm not going to go through this alone -"

"Of course not -"

"And _you're_ not going to, either. Promise me that." It was an imperative, but she lingered for a time with her body safe inside Han's embrace. "Leia?" he had to call her, after she'd made no move to make the promise.

Finally she raised her head to look at him. "As long as you promise me...that we won't lose this one." The second half of her sentence she had stumbled on, its weight having seemed to press at her abdomen with intensity. She felt their child more now, since the confirmation had been made. Repeating her request, Leia clasped her hand upon her husband's arm. "Promise me we won't."

"We won't, sweetheart."


	4. Divisions

Leia awoke to the warmth of her husband's arms wrapped around her own. It worried her when she glanced at his countenance; his lips were perfectly positioned in a smile - perhaps his wife's favorite depiction of Han - but this caused her to wonder: _Have I persuaded him that I am no longer afraid about this baby, about our future?_

"G'morning, sweetheart," Han whispered once awake. Leia kissed his cheek politely, but she gave him indication that she was not feeling at-ease. "What's wrong?" he asked almost immediately.

It broke her heart to express herself; she wanted him to have no impediment to good feeling about them and the child. But Leia couldn't bear the prospect of feigning happiness. "The more I think about it, the more I worry -"

"Wait, hold on." Han's tone of voice was highly incredulous - so much that it made Leia doubt her husband's potential to provide comfort. He continued: "I didn't convince you last night? Everything's going to be fine -"

"We can't be certain that everything will be fine, Han," countered Leia, annoyance resounding in her speech. "Please don't forget who I am."

"Of course, sweetheart, I'm just -"

"My life has never been personal," persisted Leia. Han's face became serious as she fought slowly-emerging tears. "Politicians spend enormous amounts of time worrying about issues outside of themselves. It's difficult for me to imagine that someone close to me - that our own _baby_ - could be in such danger..."

Han wiped the tears from Leia's eyes. "I tell you that it's all going to work out. But I don't know how you've been involved with the Republic since you were ten years old -"

"I was fourteen," she corrected him; but her lips reluctantly curved into a smile. Han returned the gesture, softly brushing her cheeks as he reminded her, "My memory's not sharp, so I always over-estimate."

They exchanged a moment of neutral silence, during which Leia looked toward the window in their room. The intensity of the Corellian sun caused temporary panic. _Damn, for how long have we slept in? We have work today -_

"Hey, are we gonna ask Luke to drop by?" asked Han at the opportune time. Leia sighed; she'd forgotten there was no work to be done today.

"Sure, invite him if you want. I'll spoil it for you now: he already knows -"

"That's fine," her husband announced. "I think it would be a wise thing for us to get together...if you think that would help..."

Leia was slightly offended by Han's implication that she was feeling helpless. "If you think moral support's going to solve this, don't bother to invite my brother."

"I just thought it might lift your spirits a bit -"

"Han, please. Luke's presence is not going to change anything." In a matter of seconds, she slid out of the bed and headed for the restroom. "Hey," Han called after her, and she turned her body around to face him.

"I'm sorry, Han. But you mustn't convince yourself that I'm going to be assuaged by a few words from my family, because nothing will improve until it's over."

The harshness of her very last word poisoned Han; he hoped she wasn't referring to something he swore to never comprehend. "Until _what's_ over?" was his delicate inquiry. She refused to answer him, and without any further acknowledgment Leia shut the bathroom door after her.

...

Luke did not visit them that afternoon, and before Han could get a grip on the developing tension between him and Leia, one standard month had mercilessly whizzed past them.

Which meant it was time for Leia's medcenter check-up. Han had decided upon meeting his wife there in the evening, since Leia's political duties had placed her in a day-long convention. As Han reached the medcenter's entrance, he muttered, "Why the hell does this galaxy hate our union so much?"

It sounded harsher than he'd anticipated. Han's relationship with Leia had been on a landslide since their detour to the Jedi Academy on Coruscant. Their days were spent apart, and their nights hardly ever began before one of them had sat down at the dinner table. _Our time for reconciliation is now, _Solo realized.

A med droid approached him. "Mr. Solo, your wife is waiting for you."

He froze. "Um...thanks, which room...?"

...

"I was looking for you before they called me in here," Leia greeted him bluntly.

"I'm sorry, I tried to cut the lesson short -"

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Solo." A med droid hovered across the room to set up the machinery. "How are you today, Mrs. Solo?"

Leia was slightly amused by the droid's ignorance to the atmosphere she and Han had thus far created. "Fine, thank you." She fidgeted in her chair while the droid prepared the tools for drawing blood. This was Han's first time at the medcenter with his pregnant wife, and he too was becoming impatient.

"How long will the check-up take?" he asked the med droid. The robot's headpiece looked up from the needle and tubes in its hands. "About half an hour, unless there are complications, Mr. Solo."

"Great." Han sighed, his comment having reflected his sarcasm more than his gratefulness at the mention of the time duration. He dared to look at his wife; and this time, she appeared frightened. "How was your day at the convention?" he wondered aloud, figuring small talk would pass the time.

It only made it worse. She faked a smile and replied, "Interesting enough. I was absorbed the entire time, probably because I knew what was in store for me later." Leia was referring to the present time, and the med droid caught on quickly.

"Mrs. Solo, we can assure you that this will be a very simple process. Our method is to draw blood, to perform an ultrasound, and finally to examine the -"

"Is this the normal procedure?" Han cut in, his own nerves causing him to shiver. _What am I doing, acting like a scared little kid?_ he criticized himself. _Leia's supposed to look to me for comfort._

But his wife had not been phased by the appointment at the medcenter, and when they'd returned home she even kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for his support. "It felt better to have you there. I'm serious," she added quickly, knowing he doubted that she appreciated him at all right now. But Leia was not herself, and she had to convince him of that.

Han headed toward the kitchen. "Hungry?" he asked, opening up the food cabinets. "How about some soup?"

"That's fine, but you'll have to tolerate me at the table tonight." Leia paused, expecting Han to give her a puzzled expression. He turned to frown at her.

"Tolerate you?"

"Yes," she replied simply. "I've had the feeling that you're upset with me." Her gaze upon him had just turned grave; Han felt guilty by her obvious knowledge of his concern. _But it's true,_ he thought. _We're having our first child, and my wife's not at-ease with that. And since she's worried about it, I'm sure as hell a mess right now._

"I'd never think you to be someone I'd have to _tolerate,"_ he admitted after seconds of ample contemplation. Han removed two bowls from the cabinets and placed them on their round dining table. Leia pressed her lips together with mixed feelings. Her husband returned to the stovetop to prepare the vegetables. "I think we need to talk," he announced, his back now facing her.

"All right," Leia agreed. She neared him at the kitchen counter and added, "Can I help?"

"Sure," he permitted. His wife could tell that he'd already fallen victim to a cooking-trance, which usually inhibited her from creating effective conversation with him. "How shall we begin?" Leia asked ambiguously.

"I'm thinking of putting in all the vegetables we've got, so I'll wash them and you'll cut them -"

"I _mean,_ how shall we start our - our _conversation?"_ Her words were foreign to her, because the last thing she thought she'd do was to obey Han and express her present emotions. But it was too late, and Han seemed to be conscious enough of her words to actually care about them.

He admitted, "I thought I'd ask you if there's anything worrying you. I mean, you seemed to handle the check-up just fine..." Han recalled the ultrasound-screen; the med droid had shown them their diminutive little baby, so amazingly real to both of them that Han's vision had soon become clouded by tears. He now looked to his wife, whose hands were quickly preparing the vegetables and root-plants for the stove. "Hmm?" he interrogated, requesting her attention.

Leia looked up for only a moment. "Nothing seems to be wrong so far," she admitted, sounding so detached to the very same event that had excited Han. It stung his heart, and he bit his lip.

"Why do you explain it in that way?" he wondered, knowing he'd just passed his "safe-zone" conversation boundary. But he was upset with her, and she knew it.

"Because nothing's wrong, and that's a positive thing, isn't it?" Her voice still emanated a bitterness that he couldn't understand. _If she's so worried about miscarrying, why does she act like she wants this pregnancy to be over?_ Quickly he cursed himself for being so insensitive. _She's under the pressure of satisfying the both of us, and she'd probably feel responsible were things to go badly..._

Leia dropped the cleanly-cut vegetables into the pan. "Anyway, I've decided to become Lieutenant Governor of Corellia. Mon Mothma wants me to do it, and I believe it pays well."

"Wait a second," Han stopped her; in his shock he even remained with his hand in mid-air above the stove. "You're worried about the money? Sweetheart, I've told you I'm getting a raise at the end of the Corellian year -"

"You always bring back the useless argument that your job will provide for us," she blurted. The knife she held in her hand slipped from her grip and fell to the floor, barely missing her feet. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath, leaning down to quickly retrieve the now-contaminated utensil. "None of our other knives are clean, so I'll have to wash this one."

As she headed toward the sink, Han remained fixed upon her figure, frowning. "I'm feeling guilty now that you're worried about our income."

"Yeah, well, it's a little too low for my comfort."

"Why didn't you ask the Alliance to compensate you on behalf of your father? Organa, I mean?"

She looked at him in annoyance. "Why would they have given a nineteen year-old Princess of Alderaan a fortune so large as my father's? Han, Alderaan is gone; I can't go jump into the _Falcon_ and enter a palace that no longer exists -"

"I didn't mean -"

"You didn't, but you're making me feel responsible for our poverty." She glared at him a moment before returning her focus to washing the cooking utensil.

Han felt offended, big-time. "We are _not_ impoverished. I get it if you're comparing our possessions to the luxuries you had as a child, but I can tell you that we're rich compared to most Corellians."

"Is that saying much, Han? Really?"

Now the Corellian-born was fuming. He took one glance at the stove beneath him and shrugged. "Well, I guess I can't afford to cook this dinner for us, so -"

_"You_ can't afford it?" she challenged, waving her hands in the direction of her skillfully-sliced contribution. "Have I been invisible to you all this time?''

"Leia!" he bellowed, although Han rethought his tone of voice as he continued. "I thought this child would bring us closer. Obviously I was wrong. I thought... You know what, I'm retiring early for the night. I can't _handle_ this, sweetheart, but what boggles my mind is how _you_ can!"


	5. Panic and Doubt

She'd left him that very day, immediately after Han's heated comments and weighted storming out of the kitchen.

Two standard months later, she knew they were in trouble with themselves; their union was falling apart, and Leia thought sadly that it'd been a stupid reason for which they were now residing on different planets.

_I can't believe it,_ she realized while looking down upon Coruscant's traffic from Luke's apartment balcony. _Why have I left him?_

The strangest part of their separation was the plain fact that they'd communicated nothing about being separated from one another. Leia hadn't shouted, "I'm leaving," and Han hadn't bellowed back to her, "Good! Stay in the Outer Rim, for all I care!"

Nothing had transpired between them that screamed "intolerable animosity". They were simply out of words to impart; they'd lost the will to consider forgiveness; they were _broken._

Leia's abdomen was bothering her again, and so she closed her eyes and rubbed it with no rhythmic pattern. Her pregnancy had become a mere fact of her condition, a _chore_ even, and she blamed herself entirely for that. "I wish Han were here," she spoke aloud. Luke was at the Jedi Academy that afternoon, which had been the reason for Leia's contemplative time outside, leaning on the balcony. "I'd feel better if he called...or did something..."

But her wishful thinking would not perform; Han Solo was a convinced man - convinced that he _himself_ had blown everything sacred that he'd shared with his wife - and now the silence he'd begun was the silence in which he would dwell: uncomfortable, uncaring, unconvinced that change were possible.

Leia continued to apply gentle pressure to her stomach area, her anxiety only increasing with every pinprick of pain she experienced. She would inhale dramatically, exhale even more worriedly, and cover her mouth with fear of bursting into tears. _Not now,_ she told herself, her teeth gritted as she thought so. _Be strong, for goodness' sake, Leia! You're overlooking Coruscant; don't let this city watch you crumble._

It was too late for that.

...

She felt like she was dying.

It had hit her at 0200, the searing sequences of abdominal pain. It was accompanied by a strange sensation - as if something inside her was vanishing in shifts, a cool liquid of some sort - and Leia had screamed in pain. Now Luke was with her, holding her face and beseeching her for a vocalization other than her cries of agony.

Leia grasped onto her brother's arm almost violently. "I think...I can feel it...something's leaving me!"

"Are you certain of what it is?" he wondered, only now beginning to sense the need to take his sister to the medcenter. "What's _leaving_ you, Leia? Can you pinpoint what it is?"

"My baby!" she sobbed after her face crumbled even further, after her voice had aborted its responses to the pain. "I think it's the baby...but I feel..."

Suddenly she blacked out. Luke's eyes widened at the sight, but he understood quickly the situation at hand: _Either she's lost a lot of blood and the baby's dying, or something else is making her believe the baby's dying._ He knew he had to call Han; his sister hadn't mentioned the estrangement they'd had from one another, and so Luke made no hesitation to grab his comlink on his way out the door. Leia's limp body was in his arms, and he marveled at how light-weight she felt. _Almost unreal,_ he thought, remembering that his sister was currently three months along in her pregnancy.

"Han, get to Coruscant now. I'm taking Leia to the medcenter; she's unconscious. She's worrying me about the condition of your child..."

...

Every bittersweet thing he'd thought about their separation vanished from his mind. His wife was in danger, and his child - for all he knew - could be dead. Of course it was too much for him to bear at one moment; which was why the Corellian took the mental blows one-at-a-time. "She needs me," he repeated for an interval while the _Falcon_ finished light-speed. "Leia's in danger," he finally accepted once Coruscant was in view from the cockpit window. Han angrily fiddled with the controls to prepare the ship for landing. His eyesight became bleary, and his madness only increased as he almost blindly felt around for the controls. "I'm losing everything," he wept, a shower of tears overcoming his face.

By a miracle, Han arrived at the medcenter at 0230. He'd been recognized instantly by the med droids in the waiting room, who knew exactly who he was in relation to the famous woman they'd recently received. Han braced himself for the worst and followed the droid. Luckily, it did all the talking: "Your wife, Mr. Solo, is now undergoing an ultrasound. She is connected to an oxygen-machine, and since she is masked for it, we ask that you refrain from speaking to her."

Han nodded. _She's conscious, she's awake,_ he reassured himself countless times. His destination met him before he was emotionally ready; moments proceeding his entrance into the little room, Han felt invasive tears streaming down his cheeks. It was an embarrassment to him, until Luke slowly got up from his chair and approached his brother-in-law. He, too, was crying.

"She's doing better, but the med droids are performing an ultrasound. They've examined her... Well, she's lost blood."

Han felt a frightening rush of his own blood after Luke had revealed the unfathomable circumstance. "She's losing it," he choked, referring to the baby and not to his wife's sanity. Overwhelmed beyond words, he covered his eyes and sighed. Luke only held onto his arm, unsure of his own emotional roller-coaster at the moment. _Should I face the facts,_ he wondered, _or do I need to remain strong for their sakes?_

The droid performing the ultrasound left the room with nothing to report. Han watched as it disappeared, and he turned to the bed on which his wife rested. Taking in a deep and brave breath, he forced his legs nearer to her. He knelt beside the bed and cradled her hand in his own. Her flesh was warm to him, but he realized that he'd experienced the freezing temperatures of space-travel in his sleepwear.

Leia was much aware of his presence; she moved the very same hand he held up to his face and felt his jawbone. Han almost died when tears began to line up in her eyelids, each one so desperately wanting to fall. In trepidation he kissed her forehead; to his damnation, the feeling was foreign. _When was the last time I touched her lips?_ he wondered, cursing internally the distance he'd allowed between them. _Nothing matters except for her and the baby... None of our arguments, our -_

"Mr. Solo." Han froze before turning to face the med droid. _Either they have good news, or I'm not going to have the will to live._ The droid entered the room and configured the ultrasound. "Mr. Solo," it repeated, "We now ask that you stand back from the bed; we have to try the ultrasound once more, since the view was difficult the first time."

_Great,_ Han thought. _I have to endure this damned process from the beginning!_ But his mind-set altered when he watched as the droids removed Leia's oxygen mask. "How well can you breathe now, Mrs. Solo?"

She nodded, communicating merely that she could manage without artificial means of oxygen-delivery. Her title - Mrs. Solo - had stung Han, but he was more touched by her immediate turn to lock eyes with him. Luke even stifled a few sobs, which both surprised and confused Han. _Why is Luke fighting the urge to cry?_

And then he saw it: the cream-colored blankets were stained from Leia's torso down. Han hadn't witnessed the sight of so much blood since the miscarriage of the woman at the very same medcenter.

The med droid, meanwhile, had other matters to solve. It lifted the bedsheets to connect the ultrasound technology to Leia's abdomen. Han cringed when she closed her eyes and pursed her lips; so ardently did he ache to relieve his wife of her suffering. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. Little did he know that she'd detected his voice so quickly.

It was a comfort to her, a relief to know that he still loved her.

Because she'd had her doubts.


	6. Movements

All Han could manage was a downright terrified expression in the direction of his wife. Trembling as the med droid ran the ultrasound device across her body, Leia kept pleading in a whisper, "Please, please, please..."

Her words were all too loud for Solo's ears, as every raspy whisper she uttered beat against his ears like an overpowering bass-drum. He and Luke had their fingers crossed, and they stood with the savagest eagerness before the ultrasound screen. Neither one moved a muscle as the medical devices beeped and buzzed; neither one _could_ move.

There was nothing to see.

Thus far.

As one of the several med droids hovered over to the cabinets at the opposite side of the room, Leia began to panic. "What's wrong? Please, what do you see?"

The droids ignored her, which made Leia feel slighted and unimportant. Her politician-instincts revived themselves, and her voice picked up all ears (and detectors) instantly: "I want to know if my child is all right!"

Han swung around at the sound of his wife's voice; he'd experienced an optical trance as the particular droid had traveled to the other corner of the tiny room. Cloudy was his vision, and lightheaded was his state once he'd turned to face the woman in the patient's bed. She glared at him, but Han could tell her anger was not with him. _In fact,_ he thought (he hadn't thought very much lately, but this time he could), _she's much more frightened than anything else._

His newfound ability to make decisions in their crisis yielded the Corellian's abrupt arrival at Leia's side. _We're going to be in mourning,_ he realized, _but I can't forget about my wife in the midst of it._ "Sweetheart," he cooed, gently touching her cheek and then her lips. Lingering there for pure admiration for her beauty amid their trial, he gazed deeply into her wide eyes and felt his world crumble as he recognized the faith they had in him. _Not now, sweetheart,_ he began internally. _This is the wrong time to put your assurance in me... I've been incapable of bringing us back together, so it's impossible for me to save -_

"Han!" Luke's energetic tone startled he who had heard his name. Han and Leia simultaneously averted their gazes to find Luke pointing to the ultrasound screen in awe. "I see movement..."

The med droids suddenly became attentive; they, too, had given up hope and had surrendered to filling out records. "Mr. Skywalker, show us, please," one droid requested.

Luke had no problem with pointing out a minute, side-to-side motion on the screen. "It's the baby's foot," he practically cried. In mixed ecstasy and relief, he hurried over to his sister and took her hand in his own. "Leia, the baby is all right! Han -"

"I need to see the damned screen myself," came the response. Han was not yet in the mood to be happy; seeing - for him - was believing, and that only came after he'd witnessed with his own pupils the amazing movements of his offspring.

The news put Leia in an uncomfortable fit of anxiety. "Wait, Han, can I see it too? Doctors, can't you move the screen - oh, my..." She felt a wave of nausea pass through her head, and - before Han could move another inch to fix his hopeful eyes upon the screen - Leia cried out in agony and grasped her stomach. The med droids quickly set to work.

Luke and Han were purely stunned. "What's wrong with her?" Han questioned the droids furiously, as if they were entirely to blame for his wife's sudden turn. "What have you done -"

"Han," Leia gasped from the bed, her face losing more of its color. "Han..."

"Help her," Solo urged, his head spinning while he tried to get the slightest depiction from the ultrasound screen. There he beheld a figure - a grown version of the one he'd seen two months previous - and had only the will to weep. "Please," he called to no one in particular. "Please let them live..."

Eventful seconds passed - then minutes - and finally the droids were able to sedate the patient while they aided her bleeding problem. Luke and one of the droids had taken Han outside, albeit difficult to drag him away from his wife. He'd been unable to stop panicking since Leia's scare, which had only been her body's signal that her loss of blood had become detrimental to her well-being.

"It was an unusual case, Mr. Solo," the droid assured Han while he and Luke stood outside the patient-room. "Your wife was experiencing a voluntary out-flow of blood. Our machines are restoring her blood-cell count. She will be ready to return home in fifty standard hours." With nothing further to impart, the droid nodded and left the two men alone.

Luke narrowed his eyebrows at Han. The Corellian assumed that his wife's brother understood fully the conflict that had arisen, and so he guessed, "You don't want me to take her home. You think I'm incapable of treating her well."

Naturally, the Jedi sensed a crossing of wires. "I figured something was going on between the both of you, but I tell you that Leia never told me anything about it. She claimed you had a tight schedule, and that you were traveling almost every day -"

"She told you that?" Han questioned incredulously. But his disappointment with his beloved wife's false tale did not last. "We've been...on an emotional landslide since that day we met you here on Coruscant."

"Three months ago, I remember," returned Luke. He recalled his sister's disposition from that evening, and the memory of Han's desire for isolation came back to him immediately. "You both seemed very...very _off-beat_. What happened?"

For the strangest reason, Han was almost comforted by his brother-in-law's wish for an account of his strife with Leia. "It all started here," he commenced, gesturing for Luke to follow him down the medcenter hallway.


	7. Union

"Morning, sweetheart."

Leia forced her heavy eyelids to open, fighting the urge to continue in a much-needed slumber. Her vision gradually improved as Han's voice traveled across the room, muttering, "Just trying to get your things together... Here." He placed in her hand a cold, thin film; it took her strained brain cells several seconds to realize what he'd given her.

"The med droids say the little one's healthy," Han proceeded, now leaning down beside the bed to touch her cheek. He tilted his head down to gaze upon the ultrasound holo with Leia; it was a glossy, rectangular piece of film with a still image of their baby. She smiled faintly. Han could hardly catch her elation until she placed her eyes upon him; she looked so pale to him still, and he loved her beyond comprehension: she'd pulled through. For the three of them.

"Han" was all she could impart - along with a sudden grasp of her husband's hand, as if they were back on Bespin and he was about to be taken in for carbonite-freezing. He watched and felt in exhilaration as she moved his hand down from her cheek to her lips, whereupon she applied pressure to both elements of contact.

They remained there - calmer than they'd acted among one another in months, and as moved by each other's affection and concern as ever - and Han let a few tears descend from his eyes.

"Why are you...?" Leia wondered, finding it curious that the Corellian's composure was faltering. "The baby..." She paused to set free her own instant recognition of hardship-driven tears. "The baby is safe. That's all we wanted, isn't it?"

"What I've wanted," Han broke in after a careful stare into her soft eyes, "is this." He brushed both of his thumbs back and forth against his wife's face, a gesture to remind her of his regard for _her_ and all she'd given him. "Our little one is going to be fine, but _you_ are going to be fine too, and...and both of those are gifts I don't deserve. Or ever will..." Han disengaged from Leia's flesh, so enamored with her beauty and reverence in the midst of their troubles. She smiled at him; and he could tell that it pained her to exert her energy in such a seemingly insignificant manner. But he couldn't reject the treasure of a sign that his dear wife was all right, and so they merely waited for the med droids to confirm the end to the medcenter visit.

...

Their time in the cockpit of the _Falcon_ began with but a few technical instructions to boot-up the ship. Han made his motions quick and efficient, predicting the extent to which Leia thirsted to arrive home on Corellia. But the woman simply read Han's attention to time as his way of expressing to her his duty to, reverence toward, and appreciation for her. Either way, the Solos were on the same page.

They were off to a good start.

Han had a few difficulties with the transmission once they were off the planet: a task which took him away from his wife to examine the wires in the ship's centermost technical compartment. Leia followed him, naturally; perhaps it wasn't a wise thing for her to have done, but her mind was spinning faster than the Falcon at that moment. _He needs to hear it from me,_ she repeatedly told herself. _He needs to know how horribly I feel about having left him._

"How's the ship behaving?" she wondered once at his side, towering over him now due to his crouched position. Han's concentration disappeared instantly at the sound of his wife's voice.

He lifted his head to face her. "I'm just glad these problems weren't happening when I left for Coruscant." And thankful he was, but the subject was too fragile, and so Han decided to add some humor to his response. "It's a wonder that this hunk of space garbage can still get itself off the ground."

Leia chuckled, but she suddenly experienced a whir of dizziness, sending her body off-balance. "Whoa, sweetheart," Han interjected as he arose to catch her. She remained shocked in his arms as he held tightly onto her shoulders and picked her up, hugging her gently against him. "You okay?"

"It's nothing," she promised, angry with her body's present weariness for the sole reason that she yearned for Han to hear her apology. The realization seared into her that she couldn't be - well, that she couldn't be _strong_ for him. _He's seen me suffer for too long lately,_ she mused, _and I can't have him constantly concerned beyond measure._

"You sure?" the Corellian questioned her, his facial expression clouded with fear that the med droids hadn't mended her body's severest wounds. "We can go back to Coruscant if we need to -"

"No," she shook her head, disorienting her senses even further. Han frowned as Leia pressed her fingers to her temple. Then she looked up at him and calmly announced, "Everything's fine. Let's get this repaired."

As she began to kneel down to access the wires and transistors, her husband quickly located her arm and prevented her from further movement. "Hey," he called. Leia turned to face him and questioned him, "It isn't difficult for me to bend down yet. You should capitalize on my current ability to help you."

He smiled wholeheartedly at her, shaking his head. "Come on, sweetheart. For the sake of all three of us, please rest. Hey, it's not every day that I cut you some slack." He didn't understand the effect this assertion - which had a double-meaning to Leia - really implied to his wife. As a result, Leia bit her lip and closed her eyes, mustering up the courage to apologize to Han. "I've been needing to tell you something."

He'd just extended his hand to help her from the ground, but Han's heart began to pound as he heard her ominous-sounding words. She noticed his state of mercuriality, whereupon she lifted herself off from the ground and stood boldly to face him. Even in her resoluteness, she appeared to be suffering. "I never should have left you. That day..." She sighed before continuing, "I was a fool, Han. A fool to neglect the truth; a horrible wife; a wretched mother -"

"Don't," the Corellian stopped her, placing in front of him a tense, open hand. "I can't hear it. Not when you were facing fear...the fear of a death... No," he breathed, dedicating the following several seconds to ample consideration of his failure to regard his wife's struggles two months previously. Then - after what seemed to be an eternal moment of the two of them purely delving into the other's eyes, into the other's thoughts and wishes and frights - Han welcomed her into his arms.

Leia drove right to his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso while he reacted in kind. The barriers were being broken, they felt, and nothing was more invaluable to them at that moment than their glorious feat: they had reunited. The three of them.

Han's disposition still radiated guilt. "It was my job to come to you, and it took a medical issue to accomplish that," he confessed. Leia fought the urge to cry when he added, "And I even knew where you were, thanks to Luke."

"We were both trying to walk on shifting sands," concluded Leia, holding ever so tightly onto his arms. Han almost cringed because of it, but she soon let go of him and covered her face. "I was too rough with you," she cried. "I'm so sorry."

"It was my ignorance of your worry that made everything worse," Han relayed, now stepping forward to embrace her again. "I wanted you to know how defeated I felt...but that's no excuse. I'm so sorry, Leia."

"Oh, Han," she exhaled, brightening upon sensing the mutual feeling of heartfelt grief and sincerity. "I forgive you. And will you forgive me?"

It was his turn to show her how much he loved her; for so long he perceived that she'd excelled at amazing him. Combing her hair back so as to allow her to gaze upon every single inch of him, Han caused her to shiver as he kissed her cheek and admitted softly into her left ear, "Of course."

The pair exchanged fervent kisses on the lips, which were followed by confessions they'd withheld from one another for unruly lengths of time. After the _Falcon_ was fixed, they seated themselves side-by-side in the cockpit - the very same location that had housed many treacherous times, but that had conceived many more beauteous occasions. Leia knew not what to value more: her husband's caring words of assurance that all would be well so long as they were unified, or his beaming countenance upon placing a gentle hand atop her abdomen. _Truly,_ she tried to comprehend, _I must be dreaming._

...

Indeed, over the following several months their relation had improved. The unfortunate occasions they'd endured had simply become just that: endurances. Every evening - when Han would return from his work at the flight academy - the Corellian would greet his wife with the utmost passion and treatment, as his regard for all they'd passed in their lives had only increased Leia's pricelessness. Which to Han, at first, seemed an impossible achievement. But his wife had no limits when it came to astounding him, and he learned to embrace that upon the birth of their firstborn.

It was at the medcenter on the evening of the birth when the new parents found themselves truly at peace, cradling their healthy son together in both of their laps.

Han felt a remarkable closeness to Leia - one he'd had glimpses of during the pregnancy, but one that had nevertheless remained a mystery until their baby had been born. "I don't get it," he announced soothingly as his wife squeezed his hand lovingly. She averted her gaze, turning her head to the left in eagerness to hear more. "What don't you get?" she returned.

The child in their arms so fascinated Han - the boy's very alive features, his calmness in slumber - and the elated father leaned in to plant a kiss on the child's forehead. "All the things we've had to deal with together...especially the difficult things... Everything pays off...right now." He glanced back at his wife's tired face, awaiting her answer in agony. _If she doesn't agree,_ he began to think with worry -

"I love you," she whispered, but it was loud enough for its receiver to detect. It was a sentence grand enough to convince him of her agreement. And so Han caressed her cheek, let a few tears slip from his wan eyes - they were just as proud as hers, albeit exhausted - and imparted two final delicately meaningful words for the indescribably precious night:

"I know."

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>


End file.
